January On Fire: A Firefighter Fake Marriage Romance

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January On Fire: A Firefighter Fake Marriage Romance Page 7

by Chase Jackson


  I swallowed heavily. My heart thumped in my chest.

  “Are we still talking about cake?” I asked.

  He just smiled mysteriously. Then he stabbed his fork into a cube of spongy white cake and raised it to my lips. I bit off of a small piece, but my mind was too preoccupied with Brady to focus on the taste as I chewed.

  “That one’s called ‘lovely lemon,’” he said, reading the flavor name from the label on the tray. “What do you think?”

  I think I don’t give a shit about cake right now. I think there’s something else I want to taste, and it’s not on this table…

  “You forgot the frosting,” I said instead.

  “Of course,” Brady smiled, reaching for one of the silver spoons. Instead of spreading the dollop onto the remaining cube of cake, he swirled his finger around in the frosting. Then his eyes flashed onto mine, as if he was giving me a dare…

  My heart beat doubled in my chest and my pussy clenched. There were several parts of Brady that I wanted to taste, but his finger would have to do for now…

  I leaned forward and caught the frosting on the tip of my tongue. The tangy lemon flavor tickled my taste buds as I licked away the sticky residue left behind. I ran my tongue along the underside of his knuckle, demonstrating the way I wanted to lick the underside of his massive cock.

  He inhaled sharply as he watched me take his finger between my lips, and he pressed down on the back of my tongue. I kept my lips clamped around his digit as I slid my mouth back up to his fingertip, then I released him.

  A smile curled up at the corners of his mouth.

  “Careful, Ladybug,” he warned me. “We might be in a public place… but that doesn’t mean I’ll be able to control myself if you keep tempting me like that.”

  I smiled. My pussy was throbbing, desperate to feel him inside of me again. Sex with Brady was like a drug; after that first high, I was addicted. And that addiction made me do crazy, wild things… things that the old Cassidy Laurent would have dreamed of doing.

  I kept my eyes locked on his as I reached for the silver frosting spoon. I started to raise the spoon towards my lips, but at the last second, I flinched my wrist, causing the remaining dollop of creamy lemon frosting to slip off the spoon and land with a plop on the breast of my pink cotton sundress, right over my hardened nipple…

  Brady swallowed heavily, licking the coy smile off of his lips.

  Then, in a deep, husky voice, he hissed a command: “Bathroom. Now.”

  All of my blood rushed to my pounding pussy as I obeyed, making a beeline for the door of the unisex bathroom. Brady was right behind me, and he pushed me through the door and fastened the lock behind us.

  He didn’t waste any time: he reached under my skirt and scooped up my bare ass in his hands, then he hoisted me onto the edge of the white porcelain pedestal sink.

  Then he ducked down, clamping his mouth around the blob of frosting. His tongue made quick work of the mess that I had made, but he kept his mouth there, latching onto my erect nipple through the thin pink cotton fabric and sucking until I let out a soft whimper.

  I could feel his cock swell between my legs, but when I reached for the front of his pants he stopped me.

  “Patience,” he grinned as he held both of my wrists firmly in place on the edge of the porcelain sink.

  “I need you inside of me,” I begged. “Now.”

  “Wait your turn,” he grunted.

  This was a side of Brady I had never seen before. I was used to him being soft-spoken, polite, sometimes even playful… but he had never given me direct orders or bossed me around like this before. I was surprised… and I was even more surprised by my body responded. The firmness in his voice just made me want -- no, need -- him inside of me even more.

  He flicked the strap of my dress off of my shoulder and tugged down, peeling away the damp fabric and exposing my bare breast. My rosy pink nipple was already hard from Brady’s mouth, but being exposed to the cold air made my skin prickle together even tighter. My engorged bud burned for the warmth of his mouth, but he teased with me a sharp twist between his fingertips first. The stinging sensation made the relief of his hot tongue feel even sweeter, and I melted as his mouth clamped onto my soft flesh and sucked gently.

  I made another reach for his pants, and this time he didn’t stop me. As I unzipped his fly, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a condom.

  I was caught off guard all over again by his size, and I felt the same tremor of apprehension as I wondered how the hell he was going to fit inside of me as I watched him unroll the condom over his massive length.

  “Turn around,” he ordered.

  A wave of heat tingled through my mound and I obeyed. I hopped down from the sink and turned around, so that I was facing the mirror with my back to Brady. He hiked up the skirt of my sundress and gripped onto the curves of my hips. Then he tugged backwards, forcing my ass into the air.

  “Do you have any idea how fucking hot your ass is?” he asked, palming my bare cheeks.

  Then he slipped his hands under the waistband of my thong. Instead of pulling it down, he yanked upwards, causing the thin strip of fabric to dig deeper into my juicy wet slit. I felt the pressure all through my throbbing pussy, but I especially felt it on my clitoris. He yanked up again, and I moaned.

  “Oh, fuck,” I moaned, gripping the sides of the sink to brace myself as the bolts of pleasure coursing through my body grew stronger.

  Brady ripped off my thong with one swift downward tug. I watched his reflection in the mirror as he gripped his shaft and guided it towards my dripping slit.

  This time he didn’t go slow; he filled me with one deep thrust. I gasped, gripping harder onto the sink.

  His hand reached around my hip and his fingers found my clitoris, and he made tantalizing little circles as he thrust harder and harder.

  I couldn’t stop myself from moaning as my body melted around his firm rod. I dug my teeth into the flesh of my finger, clenching down just as the orgasm erupted inside of me. I was overpowered by the blinding waves of bliss.

  Brady pressed deep inside of me, and I felt his cock quiver inside of me as he grunted.

  He pressed his lips into the back of my neck, planting a gentle kiss; a far cry from the urgency of his thrusts.

  “Cassidy Laurent,” he whispered softly, keeping his lips pressed on my skin, “You’re the best damn cake I’ve ever tasted.”

  The words didn’t sink in until we made it back to our seats at the table, and I remembered what Brady had said earlier… about finding a piece of cake that made you never want to taste anything else.

  What did he mean by that? He wasn’t really talking about cake, was he…?

  Before I could get too lost in my own thoughts, the kitchen door swung open and the beaming baker shuffled out.

  “How’s the taste test going?” he asked eagerly. Then he eyed the plate full of samples that we still had to try, and he said: “Oh, I see you need a little more time.”

  “Actually,” Brady said, picking up my hand and giving it a little squeeze, “I think we’ve made a decision. Right, Cass?”

  “Yes,” I smiled, ignoring the warm blush creeping up in my cheeks. I reached for the frosting spoon that we had left behind on the table. “We’re going with the lemon.”

  “That’s a great choice,” the baker said, sounding confused, “But are you sure you don’t want to try any of the other flavors before committing to that?”

  “We’re sure,” I said.

  “When you know, you know,” Brady added, giving my hand another squeeze.

  “Lemon it is!” the baker grinned. He ducked behind the shop’s front counter and emerged with a clipboard and order form. Then he pulled up a chair and joined us at the table.

  “You know, I have to say…” he said, dropping the order form onto the table and studying us both, “I’ve been making wedding cakes for over twenty years, and I’ve seen p
lenty of happy couples come through these doors. But I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a couple that glowed the way that the two of you do. You’re lucky: not a lot of people find the kind of love that you two have.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN | BRADY

  I kept a firm grip on the firehose, but I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering back to Cassidy. I was supposed to be washing the engine, but all I could think about was how I’d guide my own firehose into her soft curves the next time I saw her…

  “January!” a voice shouted in my ear. I startled, losing my grip on the thick length of hose. The rubber hose curled from the pressure of the water, and before I could stop it, the nozzle had snaked around and blasted me with a wave of icy water.

  I regained control of the hose, but it was too late: the front of my jeans and my Firehouse 56 t-shirt were soaked.

  I glared over my shoulder, and my eyes locked on the culprit: my brother.

  “What the hell, man!” I shouted. I dropped the hose onto the ground and dodged the wild spurts of water as I made my way to the shut-off valve on the side of the station. I gave the valve a few twists, and the hose immediately went limp as the water supply tapered to a stop.

  “I called your name, like, fifteen times!” Josh shrugged, tossing me a towel so I could dry myself off.

  “I was washing the engine,” I said. “I probably couldn’t hear you over the sound of the hose.”

  “It wasn’t the hose,” Josh shook his head. “You just weren’t paying attention. You must have been in dreamland or something. I literally watched you rinse the same section of the engine for over five minutes.”

  “Hmm,” I shrugged dismissively, burying my face in the white cotton towel. “I guess I just have a lot on my mind…”

  “You guess?” Josh chuckled. He shook his head, eyeing me incredulously. “That’s an understatement, don’t you think?”

  “What are you talking about?” I tossed the soiled towel over my shoulder and got to work, wrapping up the hose. Josh followed behind me.

  “Well it must be a lot of work, planning a wedding with someone you weren’t even dating last week.”

  “Oh,” I sighed. “That.”

  “Exactly,” he snapped back. “That.”

  I finished wrapping up the length of hose, then I went back for the bucket of cleaning supplies that I had left in front of the vehicle bay.

  “What’s going on, Brady?” Josh asked, still following behind me. “I asked you point-blank if you wanted to settle down, and you told me some bullshit excuse about how you ‘hadn’t found the right woman yet.’ Then a few days later, you’re engaged?!”

  “I guess I found her,” I shrugged. I lifted the supply bucket onto my hip and started to walk back towards the vehicle bay, but Josh blocked my path.

  “No,” he snapped. He was angry. Very angry. I hadn’t seen my brother this way in years.

  When our father died, Josh had struggled to find an outlet for years and years worth of pent-up anger and aggression. While I found my place in the 101st Airborne, Josh struggled to find his own calling or purpose in life. After living in our father’s shadow for so long, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself once he was free.

  It had taken years for Josh to get over the anger and resentment, and channel his energy into something positive. When he asked me to help him get a job at Firehouse 56, I had hoped that it was the start of a fresh chapter; the first step on the right path.

  But seeing the flash of anger and hurt in his eyes, I wondered if my brother was still carrying that grudge, all of these years later. And I wondered, too, if I had just replaced our father as the subject of Josh’s anger.

  I tried to look my brother in the eye, but I couldn’t. The pang of guilt that was spreading through my chest was too strong. There were a lot of things I’d done in my lifetime that I wasn’t proud of, but staring my brother in the eye as I lied to him probably topped the list.

  “You didn’t ‘find’ anyone,” he said, the anger still rattling through his voice. “You’ve known Cassidy Laurent all your life. We both have.”

  “You’re right,” I nodded. I looked down at the pavement below my feet. The guilt was building, growing heavier and heavier as it filled my chest. “I guess we just started hanging out again, and we both felt a spark, and…”

  My voice trailed off.

  What if I just tell him the truth? He’ll understand, right?

  I knew that Mrs. Laurent had earned a special place in Josh’s heart for looking after us as kids, just like she would always have a special place in my own heart. But would Josh understand why I had agreed to Cassidy’s proposal? Would he understand why I was willing to go to such extreme lengths, just to make an old woman happy?

  I sighed. How could he understand? It was a crazy plan… and it was even crazier, now that Cass and I had crossed the line and made our relationship physical. We were playing the role of husband and wife, for all intents and purposes. I had promised to be monogamous… she was moving into my house… we were going on dates and telling all of Hartford that we were engaged. Hell, we even picked out a wedding cake.

  The line between real and fake wasn’t just blurred; it was obliterated. How could I make sense of it all to Josh, when it didn’t even make sense to me? How could I answer his questions, when I wasn’t even entirely sure where this was going?

  “And… what?” Josh snapped, waiting for me to fill in the blank. “You just sat down, had a couple of drinks, and said to yourselves, ‘fuck it, let’s get married!’?!”

  Pretty much, I thought, but I remained silent.

  “She’s not even wearing an engagement ring,” Josh pointed out. He was sounding more and more exasperated. “And I talked to the Colonel on the phone today -- he had no idea you were engaged!”

  “You told the Colonel?!” my eyes shot up in a panic.

  “Yes, I told him,” Josh snapped. “The more important question is: why didn’t you?”

  “I was going to,” I lied quickly. That definitely wasn’t true. I didn’t care if all of Hartford believed that Cassidy and I were getting hitched… there was only one person I wanted to leave in the dark: my grandfather, Colonel Thomas Hudson.

  My father’s father was strict, stern, and sometimes downright cold. Case in point: the fact that he had insisted that my brother and I refer to him as ‘Colonel’ instead of ‘Grandpa.’

  Even after retiring from his decades-long career as a high-ranking official in the military, the Colonel still had a nose that could sniff out bullshit from ten miles away. Which was why I had decided that the less he knew about all of this, the better.

  “What’s going on, Brady?” Josh asked, staring me intently in the eye.

  I sighed.

  “Ok, look,” I said. “We’re not really getting married. I mean… we are technically getting married, but it’s not real.”

  Josh blinked at me, waiting for me to explain myself. I sighed again, then I continued:

  “You know how Mrs. Laurent’s been fighting cancer for a while now?”

  Josh nodded slowly.

  “Well… she’s in remission, but she’s not getting her hopes up. She’s in bad shape, and she’s just trying to make the most out of the time that she has left. And…”

  Stop babbling, I reminded myself.

  “...anyway,” I continued. “One thing that’s really important to her, is that she sees Cass get married and settle down.”

  Josh frowned, but he said nothing.

  “Cass doesn’t want to get married, but she does want to make her mom happy. And since I’ve always been pretty close with the family anyway, she figured that I was the best man for the job.”

  “So… let me get this straight,” Josh said, the frown on his forehead deepening. “You are pretending to be get married, all so that Mrs. Laurent can die believing some bullshit lie?”

  “Well when you put it that way, it sounds…”

  “Fucked up?�
� Josh finished for me. “Yeah. It is pretty fucked up. You’re lying to everyone. And how long are you supposed to keep this charade going? What if Mrs. Laurent lives for another decade? Are you stuck together until she croaks?”

  “Don’t talk about Mrs. Laurent like that,” I snapped. My brother recoiled, surprised by my tone.

  “I know this all sounds kind of... unorthodox,” I admitted, lowering my voice. “But these last few days that I’ve spent with Cassidy… they’ve felt more real than anything I’ve felt in a long time, maybe ever. I think we might actually be giving this a shot.”

  “Are you even listening to yourself?” Josh fumed, shaking his head in disbelief. “You think having a couple of fun days together justifies what you’re doing?!”

  Josh shook his head in disgust. “Maybe it feels ‘real’ now, but that doesn’t make it any less of a lie. Once the excitement wears off and you get bored, this is all going to blow up. And then you’ll be breaking two hearts: Cassidy’s, and Mrs. Laurent’s.”

  I swallowed back the anger that was building in my chest.

  “What happened to all that crap you said about me settling down?” I demanded. “Last week, you were practically begging me to meet someone and get married. Now I’m telling you that there is someone, and you’re acting like I’m the Big Bad Wolf. Which is it, Josh?”

  “I was talking about dating someone,” Josh said. “Not staging a sham marriage to deceive the woman who practically raised us!”

  He shook his head again.

  “I might not have always liked you,” Josh said, “But I’ve always respected you. But after all of this? I don’t know if I can say that anymore.”

  Before I could say anything, he turned on his heel and stomped back towards the firehouse.

  CHAPTER TWELVE | CASSIDY

  “Shit!” I hissed as I released my grip on the metal skillet handle and let it fall back onto the stove with a loud clunk. In the absence of proper potholders, I had tried to use a thin dish towel to lift the hot skillet off of the stove, but the heat had singed straight through the rag and burned my fingers.

 

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